Title: Harry Potter and his Cronies go to Muggle University!

Author: love-child-1403

Disclaimer: Although I would love to own the characters, I think we all know that I don't... It would be a little odd to think otherwise, hm?

Brief Summary: The title pretty much says it all - but if you don't like Hermione & Ron pairings or Harry & Draco pairings then I suggest that you don't read this - if this is not the case, enjoy!

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

"How can you be sure of that, exactly?" Ron asked, tapping his quill on the end of his nose and furrowing his brow in confusion. Hermione sighed in defeat and laid her head down on the desk.

"Ron, how exactly did you get your NEWTs?" asked Harry in exasperation, laying down his Muggle biro (his preferred method of writing) and running a hand through his hair. Ron gave him a none-committal grunt and jerked his thumb towards Hermione.

"Copied off her," he said, blatantly ignoring the disapproving look Hermione was giving him. He continued regardless. "I still don't get this university business…" Harry raised his eyebrows at Hermione. They had tried to explain that, until Ron started doing some work, he wouldn't understand a word of his lessons.

"It's simple, Ronald," Hermione said slowly, as though she were talking to a small child instead of a 19-year-old. Ron scowled at the use of his full name but grudgingly listened to Hermione's explanation without interruption. "Muggle university is a lot like wizarding higher education except, of course," she added, "that we can't use magic, make potions or," she gave Harry a stern look, "conjure up Patronuses to scare the new kids." Harry gave her a sheepish grin and pushed his glasses back onto his nose.

"Firstly, surely that goes under the category of magic? And secondly, that was the most I've ever seen you laugh in my entire life, Hermione!" said Harry accusingly, leaning forward to push Crookshanks his Psychology essay. Ron eyed the cat with slight distaste

"How come you were allowed to bring that and I wasn't allowed to bring Pig?" Ron asked, sighing resignedly as Crookshanks settled on his lap and began purring like a truck. He set down his quill and half-heartedly scratched Crookshanks' head, causing the purring to increase dramatically.

"The Ministry of Magic did tell you that part of the Muggle-Living Program was completed by not coming into contact with any magical creatures, or creatures which are associated with magic, magical devices, objects and-" Hermione was cut off by a knock on the dorm room door.

"S'open!" yelled Harry from underneath the table – half his psychology essay had been sent flying when he attempted to move Crookshanks. The door opened and Fred & George walked in sporting pyjamas (in matching shades of green) and party hats.

"You guys not in bed yet?" asked George seriously, crossing his arms and frowning in mock disappointment.

"Jamerson'll be after your collective guts," said Fred, mirroring George's actions. Harry rolled his eyes and guessed that Hermione and Ron were doing the same.

"I don't even know why you two got involved in this whole Muggle-Living thing," said Hermione as Fred and George flumped down on the sofa. "You tried to kill that muggle kid last year-"

"For the last time, Hermione, how were we to know that he was going to have a severe reaction to that acid?!" said George innocently, his eyes wide and appealing.

"Yeah!" agreed Fred heartily, "How were we to know his body would start to deteriorate the moment he drank his orange juice?" Harry finished rounding-up his papers and put them on the desk. He checked his watch – it was 11pm.

"Alright, you two hooligans, get out of our dorm. Ron has a ten page essay to do on the ascent of man and I'm afraid we're past the stage of chimpanzee, so you're of no use to us," said Harry, pushing them out the door and closing it behind them. When he turned around he saw Hermione and Ron working on Ron's essay, and he couldn't help but notice that Hermione's hand was lying quite suspiciously on his leg. Harry raised his eyebrows and shook his head in despair. Did they really think he hadn't noticed yet? He'd have to have serious brain damage not to notice the looks and the smiles and the gestures.

"So, you guys are getting pretty close then?" said Harry casually, sitting back down in his chair and swinging his legs over the side. Hermione's hand quickly disappeared from Ron's leg and when she spoke it was much too high-pitched to be considered normal.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Harry. Ron and I aren't having any kind of relationsh-" Harry interrupted her.

"That's just…" Harry made a vague sort of gesture, "great, but I was talking about Ron's essay…" he said innocently, a grin threatening to spread across his face. But Ron and Hermione got there first.

"Harry, you absolute wanker!" spluttered Ron, no longer able to control himself. Hermione, too, was laughing, thought she attempted to hide it by burying her face in her hands.

"I'm so embarrassed!" she said, giggling weakly with the other two. Harry ran a hand through his hair and grinned widely.

"Well, you guys aren't subtle and these walls aren't thick," he said dryly, indicating the wall that separated Harry and Ron's bedrooms. Hermione gawped and Ron's face was the reddest he had ever seen it.

"I-I-I… Oh, my God, Harry!" said Hermione, completely lost for words. Ron was much the same.

"Erm… Harry?" said Ron, once he had found his voice. "Can we pretend this never happened?" Harry shook his head solemnly.

"You're asking me to give up on the one thing I've ever had over Hermione," he said, suddenly grinning. "Oh, and, Hermione?" She looked up, blushing furiously. "Never shout 'Oh, Ron, take me' ever again. Please. For the good of my little remaining sanity…" Hermione gasped and her eyes widened.

"My God, you heard that?!" she shrieked, standing up and making to run away. Ron grabbed her hand and pulled her onto his lap (nearly squashing Crookshanks in the process).

"I was joking, Hermione – you mean you actually said that?" asked Harry innocently. Hermione's eyes narrowed but she was holding back laughter.

"You wanker!" she said vehemently, but there was no real conviction in her voice. Harry just laughed and checked his watch.

"Fred and George were right, it's pretty late," he said, standing up and picking up the pile of papers that made up his psychology essay. "Jamerson will have us." Hermione and Ron nodded (both still beet red) and stood up, walking to their separate rooms. Though Harry had reason to suspect that the separate room thing wouldn't be permanent… "And if I have to cover my ears in any way tonight, there will be hell to pay in the morning!" And, with that, he walked into his room, smirking like a madman, shutting the door behind him.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Harry awoke groggily to a loud banging on his door and shouts of "wake up, you wanker." It was the crack of dawn and already he had been called a wanker… He threw off the bed covers and got, grudgingly, out of bed. He threw open his door and was immediately faced with Fred and George, who were pale-faced and uncharacteristically sombre-looking.

"What?" asked Harry, instantly more awake. A gloomy Ron appeared behind the twins and answered Harry's question for him.

"Malfoy's here."

Harry stared at the three brothers, open-mouthed, silently begging them to be joking. Fred understood and shook his head sadly.

"Sorry, mate…" said Fred, nudging George with his elbow.

"Yeah, sorry… The maggot's a couple of doors down from here," said George. Harry suddenly found his voice.

"What's that bastard doing here?" he growled. Fred shrugged moodily but Ron snarled and pushed past the twins.

"He's probably here just to piss us o-" Ron stopped mid-sentence and wrinkled his nose. "Harry, can I continue my mindless rant once you've put some clothes on? No offence but it's just not something I want to see and seven o'clock in the morning…" Harry vaguely remembered that he had been sleeping in his boxers and looked down, only to find that he couldn't actually see them. He was about to panic when he realised the obvious. His glasses.

"Yeah, sure…" he said, grinning and turning back into his room. He quickly dressed himself in a pair of jeans and a black, short sleeved T-shirt and turned back to his door, shoving his glasses onto his nose as he went. He then managed to trip and fall into his door, his ankles having become entangled in a heap of clothes from the day before. Harry stared, fuzzy-eyes, at his smashed glasses and winced. They'd take ages to fix… He swore and stood up, opening the door whilst watching his own feet very carefully. Hermione was sitting, fully dressed, at the table, ignoring her bowl of cornflakes in favour of a muggle newspaper. "Hermione…" began Harry, putting on his most mournful face so as to stir up a bit of sympathy. "I've broken my glasses again!"

He then proceeded to trip over Crookshanks, managing to land gracefully in the wash basket. Hermione giggled and held out her hand to help him up but Harry didn't take it. Hermione sighed and got out of her chair.

"You," she said wearily, hauling Harry forcefully out of the wash basket, "are hopeless without your glasses."

"Thanks…" he grumbled, brushing himself off. "Could you possibly do something about it?" Hermione began to chew her bottom lip worriedly.

"Harry, you know I can't-" Harry interrupted her.

"If they even attempt to take you off the program, I'll tell them it was my fault – please? You know I always end up doing something stupid like turn my glasses into a hamster!" Harry complained, practically begging for her help. She sighed again and took out her wand. Harry smiled gratefully and held out the frames to Hermione, who took them from him and held them at arms-length. She tapped them lightly with her wand and muttered 'Occulus Repairo" before handing them back to Harry, good as new. He breathed a sigh of relief as everything came back into focus.

"You're welcome," said Hermione shortly, going back to her newspaper. Harry grinned and sat down opposite her, taking a slice of toast from the stack and spreading it thickly with marmalade.

"Is Ron ready to continue with his rant yet?" said Harry, taking a huge bite of toast and reaching across the table to pour himself a glass of orange juice. Hermione nodded and pointed towards Ron's bedroom, where there was quite a large amount of noise going on. "What is he doing in there?" asked Harry incredulously. Hermione chuckled.

"He's lost his wand – he's determined to hex Malfoy…" There was a slight smirk on her face when she said this. Harry grimaced and shook his head, helping himself to another piece of toast from the pile.

"You hid it again, didn't you?" he asked rhetorically, this time spreading his toast with peanut butter.

"You know, Ron still doesn't know how to use the toaster…" said Hermione, changing the subject swiftly to Ron's muggle disabilities. Harry took a bite of his toast just as Ron came out of his room, wearing jeans, a navy, long-sleeved T-shirt and a frown.

"I can too work the toaster," said Ron grumpily, slumping down on the chair next to Hermione and swiping Harry's piece of half-eaten toast from his hand.

"Go on then – explain to us how a toaster works, Ron," said Harry, staring longingly at the piece of toast that was formerly his. Ron looked stumped for a second then turned to Hermione and blinked.

"Hermione, how does the toaster work?" Hermione simply smiled and turned her attention to her neglected bowl of cornflakes. Ron glared at her. "Call yourself a girlfriend?" he said miserably, munching on Harry's toast. Hermione ignored him and looked up at Harry.

"So, what are we going to do with Malfoy?" she asked him, pushing her bowl aside and linking her hands on the tabletop. It was a simple enough question but Harry knew there was more to it than Hermione was letting on. The twinkle in her eyes told him all he needed to know… Ron scowled.

"How's about we burn him, claiming he's a witch, then-" Ron was immediately interrupted by Hermione.

"He can easily just use a freeze-flame charm," she said, sounding almost bitter. "And besides, we shouldn't really be committing homicide at the age of 19…"

"18!" Harry said testily, pointing to himself and folding his arms in defiance.

"Harry, stop being difficult…" Harry frowned but he knew Hermione was right. Murder, unfortunately, was probably not the best route to be taking here…

They were jerked from their sombre thoughts by a severe-sounding knock at the door. Harry got up to answer it, only to find something waiting on the other side that he really couldn't stomach right now.

"Potter," came the cold drawl of someone Harry had tried so hard to forget.

"Malfoy," he said emotionlessly. Seeing him again made Harry angry beyond all words. He just wanted to hurt him; see him writhing in agony.

And then he wanted to kiss his pain a way.

Malfoy had crushed his feelings and now he just expected to be welcomed back with open arms? Harry snorted inwardly. He'd toughened up a bit since they'd last met…

"What do you want, Malfoy?" asked Harry coldly, surprised at how easy it was to keep his voice level.

"You," he answered simply, grabbing Harry's arm and pulling him out into the corridor. Malfoy pushed him against the wall, pinning his wrists by his sides. Harry glared at him, his heart going a mile a minute.

"For fuck's sake, Malfoy!" he hissed, trying to wiggle free from his vice-like grip. "You can't just come crawling back to me now that you've decided that the Dark Side isn't working out so well for you!" Malfoy's brow furrowed.

"Look, Potter, I came back here because I wanted to," Malfoy said calmly, releasing Harry's wrists and taking a step backwards. "I came back to say that I'm… I'm sorry…" Malfoy's tone of voice switched quickly to accusatory, "and if you can't accept that then you're more of a wanker than you used to be!" he finished, looking pained at having to apologise but determined that he wasn't going to leave without a fight. Harry froze.

"What?" Harry said, startled. Malfoy didn't say anything. "I could've sworn you just… apologised." Harry was mystified. Malfoy just wasn't the sort of guy to apologise for something like this… for anything, as a matter of fact. Malfoy slowly nodded, unable to look Harry in the eye but completely serious, nonetheless.

Harry wasn't exactly sure what to do know. He'd never been standing awkwardly in a corridor with someone he still had trouble forgetting, then apologised to in a way that suggested…

'He means it?' thought Harry questioningly, barely giving himself time to ask before the answer came to him, along with the relief and realisation he had longed for.

"Well…?" Malfoy asked tentatively (after the ridiculously long silence following Malfoy's outburst). Harry cocked his head to one side.

"Well, what?" he asked, slightly puzzled. He had been too busy staring into Malfoy's eyes…

"Well… Well… How about it?" Malfoy finished lamely, bringing his eyes slowly up to meet Harry's.

There was silence between the two for a moment, and then…

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Ooooh, I just love cliff-hangers, don't you?

Er...

Please put that knife away!!!

Lol, I'm sure you're not all that bothered about when I put the next part out mumbles incoherently but I'll try to get it out soon anyway... Oh, and reviews always help! wink, wink, nudge, nudge

I love you all!!!

xxx